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“Is it anything to worry about when a horse breathes?” scoffed Gunnar Olsen. “He breathed like a bellows when I rode, but yet I took only eight minutes and four seconds.”,

“Good idea,” commented Mr. Whitney and was silent until the engine pulled up snorting as near their destination as it could get. “Come along,” invited Mr. Whitney as he swung off the engine. Pleased, Bob did his best to keep up with his long-legged boss who had headed for the point of trouble with great strides.,

However, one morning in the first week of vacation, Father said: “You may begin to ride now, John. I had a talk with Carlstrom yesterday.”,

“Seriously, Bob,” went on Jerry, “the Service is good stuff, but I haven’t the same sort of feeling about it that you have. Boss Whitney is great to work for and—and all that, but I’m not so sure that there isn’t something else to do that I would like a heap better. This forestry business, for instance. It listens good to me. Big trees, the song of the band saws, all the rest of it Link has been telling us about. And if Link would only go along—”

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The light now enabled him to take a more accurate survey of the place. He perceived that some few stones of the steps which had fallen still remained attached to the wall, but he feared to trust to their support only. He observed, however, that the wall itself was partly decayed, and consequently rugged with the corners of half-worn stones. On these small projections he contrived, with the assistance of the steps already mentioned, to suspend himself, and at length gained the unbroken part of the stairs in safety. It is difficult to determine which individual of the party rejoiced most at this escape. The morning now dawned, and Ferdinand desisted for the present from farther enquiry.,

O'er the fine tints of parting day;,

For that matter, neither was she. She was not really his aunt and he was glad of it; but she was Mother’s aunt, and so all the family called her Aunt Grenertsen, just as Mother did.,

The marquis turning to a door on his right hand, ordered it to be unlocked. It opened upon the country, and the servants knew it to be the same whence the figure had appeared. Having relocked it, 'Lift that trapdoor; we will desend into the vaults,' said the marquis. 'What trapdoor, my Lord?' said Robert, with encreased agitation; 'I see none.' The marquis pointed, and Robert, perceived a door, which lay almost concealed beneath the stones that had fallen from the stair-case above. He began to remove them, when the marquis suddenly turning—'I have already sufficiently indulged your folly,' said he, 'and am weary of this business. If you are capable of receiving conviction from truth, you must now be convinced that these buildings are not the haunt of a supernatural being; and if you are incapable, it would be entirely useless to proceed. You, Robert, may therefore spare yourself the trouble of removing the rubbish; we will quit this part of the fabric.'